Q&A With photojournalist Billy Smith II

By Tony Freemantle

Q: What inspired you to embark on this project? A: I wanted people to know how rampant this is, that it’s not just one unlucky guy you see on the news. There are nearly 80 people in the state of Texas that can call themselves exonerees. What we tried to do with this project is to kind of pick some real interesting stories to tell.

Q: Which stories did you find the most compelling? A: Michael Morton, for one. I can’t imagine the nightmare that man lived. I mean, you come home from work one day. Your wife is murdered, just that alone. But then, you are the chief suspect. It just boggles the mind. Gregory Wallis. He’s a guy up in Kemp, Texas. I drive out there and I see a little girl playing. Wallis is white, the child is biracial. He goes, Oh that’s my foster child, that’s my baby girl, I love her, that’s Chloe. He later tells me that while he was in prison he was a lieutenant in the Aryan Brotherhood. My jaw about dropped. You know, you see this tapestry of hate on this guy’s arms and chest, but yet he’s using this same arms and hands to hug his biracial child. I came away from it with a real sense of just warmth, feeling good, you know, that people can change.

Q: Did you find any common themes in how these people are adapting to life outside prison? A: I just felt that the first sound bite when they first get out of court wasn’t enough. We’re trying to figure out how they’re doing, where’s their life going. All of them are different. You have some that want to change the system so that this doesn’t happen to anyone else. But then there are some that move out into the country and, you know, live by themselves and don’t get along with other human beings. I mean they’ve been caged up like an animal and never had any privacy and now they want all the privacy they can get.

Q: What do you want people to take away with them after seeing these photographs? A: I’m hoping that in the 24 images you connect with them on a human family level. I mean these are people that have been locked away. These are fathers; these are sons. This can happen to you. You could be walking down the street one day and you fit a profile, you look like somebody, and your whole life can be turned upside down. I’m hoping that people can look at these images and see themselves.

About the photographer

Billy Smith II has been a photojournalist and photo editor at the Houston Chronicle since 2005.

Before coming to the Chronicle, he was on the photo staff at the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. Previously, he had a stint at theColumbus Ledger-Enquirer in Columbus, Ga.

A native Texan, Billy attended the University of Texas at Arlington. He lives in Houston with his wife and one year-old son.